


Bedtime

by orphan_account



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: 400 - 500 word count, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, dadbit fukcign sucks, mombit does too but less, mombit has a bit of a drinking problem, mommy and daddy issues central, please he's like 8 - 9 in this fic, too tiny for this, uh oh the parents are fighting again, wrote this listening to exclusively puberty 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Boris finds he can't sleep, yet again. Perhaps he could rest with his mother.
Kudos: 14





	Bedtime

Boris liked to think his parents didn’t fight very often.

It certainly wasn’t bad as it could be, though some nights if his own thoughts didn’t keep him awake, the sounds of aggravated voices trying to speak over each other prevented him from falling asleep. He had been sent to be hours ago, yet his fatigue did nothing to aid in lulling him to sleep.

After hours of hearing the muffled argument escalate through his bedroom door and end with a gut-wrenching  _ slap,  _ string of sobs and door slamming, all he could do was stare at his wall and hold onto the sheets.

At least half an hour passed before his mother’s sobs stopped, harsh clinks of glass no longer ringing in Boris’ ears. He carefully sat up and slipped from his bed, glancing at the clock on his wall.  _ Midnight _ .

Creeping over to the bedroom door, the cryptid slowly turned the knob and crept out of his room and down the hallway, careful to not make much noise. He peeked down the stairs, slowly descending and spotting his mother passed out on the couch.

Boris decided to ignore the half-empty wine bottles laying around her, tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan. He swallowed and whispered out after a moment’s hesitation. “Мамочка? проснись, здесь нет кровати.”

His mother didn’t respond. Boris sighed and climbed up next to her. “That’s fine.. Папа мне тоже больно.” He looked over his mother, frowning upon noticing dried tear tracks on her cheeks. 

They were similar in a lot of ways, sharing the same skin tone, love for nature and what his father considered weakness. His mother was kind to him. She never hit him, if she ever decided to pay attention to Boris.

“You’ll feel better later..” Boris reached up and began to smooth some of his mother’s hair down. His father had always shown his disapproval of Boris’ appearance, or at least the parts of it that came from his mother. He always thought she was beautiful, when she bothered to smile at least. That barely occurred anymore. 

Boris finished tidying up his mother, gently tucking a strand of dark and curly hair behind a pointed ear tip. He gave a weary smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead, sitting down and curling himself into his mother. 

If his mother had to sleep on the couch, he would too. Besides, it’d been ages since he was last held, or touched kindly at all. It sure helped with his ever-growing insomnia. This was nice enough, for now. 


End file.
